Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 718: Kanna’s Glorious Moment

By the time Kyle and Kanna emerged from the Room of Requirement, it was nearly time for the afternoon lessons to begin. Rather than heading back to the common room, they made their way directly toward the Dungeon.

Their schedule had two consecutive Potions lessons, marking their first class with Professor Slughorn.

When they reached the corridor outside the Dungeon classroom, several students were already inside. Cho was seated at the table closest to the podium, surrounded by a group of Ravenclaw students.

Kyle and Kanna stepped into the classroom.

The atmosphere was a stark contrast to how it had been under Snape. In previous years, the Dungeon never saw a hint of sunlight, relying solely on torches for illumination. The furnishings had been ominous—filled with jars of preserved frogs, mouse entrails, leech slime, and other grotesque ingredients, making the classroom feel more like a Knockturn Alley shop selling dark magic items than a place of learning.

Slughorn, however, had made significant changes. The torches on the walls were gone, and the grotesque bottles and jars had either been stored away or removed entirely (possibly taken by Snape). In their place were various cauldrons, each emitting white smoke or steam. For the first time, the curtains had been opened, revealing windows enchanted to mimic the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Sunlight streamed into the Dungeon, transforming it into a far more inviting space.

Kyle couldnʼt help but marvel at the bright, airy atmosphere. It felt refreshingly new.

“Look, that’s the Recovery Potion,” Kanna whispered, nodding toward one of the cauldrons.

The Recovery Potion was her own invention, created for the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneersʼ examination. Its effects were akin to the Awakening Potion, as both helped maintain focus, but there was a distinct difference. While the Awakening Potion acted as a stimulant, the Recovery Potion functioned more like coffee—it didn’t suppress fatigue but kept the mind clear throughout the day.

Kanna hadn’t anticipated seeing her yet-to-be-announced creation displayed in the classroom.

“It seems Professor Slughorn has quite the connections,” Kyle murmured.

They moved toward the cauldron containing the Recovery Potion and took seats nearby. A faint minty fragrance wafted through the air, cool and refreshing, like a gentle breeze brushing their cheeks.

“All right, class,” Slughorn’s voice boomed as he stepped to the front of the room, his large frame silhouetted against the misty cauldrons. “Before we get started, I’ve prepared a few special potions for you to examine. Don’t worry—this isn’t a test. It’s purely for your interest. I thought these potions might spark your enthusiasm for the subject.”

He gestured toward a nearby cauldron. “Let’s begin with this one. Does anyone know what this is?”

The cauldron held a pale blue potion emitting wisps of white smoke.

“I know! It’s Baruffio’s Brain Elixir!” Cho called out, raising her hand.

“Excellent!” Slughorn beamed. “It is indeed Baruffio’s Brain Elixir, a favorite among students for its ability to enhance cognitive function. That said, remember—it’s illegal to use during exams, and doing so will void your results. However, for regular study, a small dose is perfectly acceptable.”

He moved to another cauldron, pointing toward its contents. This potion was far less appealing, with a grayish-white, slimy consistency that resembled wet cement.

“And what about this one?” he asked.

No one responded. The class remained silent, eyeing the unappealing concoction with apprehension. Slughorn’s expression faltered briefly before Kanna raised her hand.

“It’s Invisibility Potion,” she said confidently.

Slughorn’s eyes lit up. “Spot on, my dear! Exactly right. The Invisibility Potion, when applied to the body, renders the user invisible.” He chuckled. “Although, I must confess, I’ve never had the inclination to use it myself.”

“Why not?” asked a curious Hufflepuff boy seated closest to the cauldron. He leaned over, scrutinizing the slimy contents.

“Does anyone know?” Slughorn replied with a knowing smile, though his gaze lingered on Kanna.

Kanna spoke up again. “It’s due to the potion’s nature—it requires perfect adherence to the skin to maintain its effect. If it peels or rubs off, the invisibility vanishes. Troll snot happens to be the best adhesive for it.”

Troll snot?

The Hufflepuff boy recoiled instantly, staggering back two steps before covering his mouth, visibly gagging.

Several students around him quickly shuffled away.

“Don’t be alarmed; it’s just a potion ingredient,” said Slughorn with a reassuring smile. “You should know, in times of war, this potion can be invaluable—it could even save your life.”

Despite his attempt to ease the tension, the students were visibly repelled by the idea of Troll snot. The student sitting nearest to the cauldron looked particularly desperate to put more distance between themselves and the unpleasant concoction, though Slughorn’s watchful presence made it clear that leaving their seat wasn’t an option.

In addition to the Invisibility Potion, the classroom featured other noteworthy creations: Wiggenweld Potion, which could sterilise and heal minor injuries, and Dandelion Potions, which granted the ability to float and glide like a leaf on the wind. Both potions were swiftly identified—one by Kanna, the other by a sharp-eyed Ravenclaw boy.

“Well, I must admit,” Slughorn said, stroking his chin with an air of amusement, “I underestimated you. Seventh-years certainly have a respectable breadth of potion knowledge.”

He ambled toward the final cauldron, where Kyle and Kanna were seated, a self-assured glint in his eye. “But this one,” he said with a dramatic pause, “is different. I dare say none of you would know what it is.”

His tone brimmed with smug certainty as he gestured toward the cauldron. “This is rather unfair, I confess—it’s a brand-new potion, not yet officially announced. It was created by the youngest member of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers.”

Kyle instinctively glanced at Kanna, only to be met with a sharp glare that seemed to say don’t you dare.

Slughorn continued, his voice dripping with pride in his insider knowledge. “Of course, those familiar with the Society might wonder why this young prodigy’s name hasn’t yet appeared on any official lists. That’s because the announcement won’t be made until after Christmas. However,” he added with a conspiratorial grin, “one of this year’s examiners happens to be an old student of mine. He couldn’t resist sharing the exciting news with me directly after the exam.”

A murmur rippled through the classroom as the students marveled at Slughorn’s connections, clearly impressed. Slughorn basked in their admiration.

“Professor,” Kyle said suddenly, feigning nonchalance, “what if someone here did know what the potion is?”

Slughorn chuckled, waving off the suggestion. “If that were the case, I’d give them a hundred points!” His tone made it clear he didn’t consider it remotely possible. He turned back to the class, his chest puffed out slightly. “Now then, let me proudly introduce to you all. This is—”

“The Recovery Potion,” a soft, familiar voice interjected.

Slughorn froze mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. Slowly, he turned toward Kanna, his face a mixture of disbelief and dawning recognition.

“You… How could you possibly—” He stopped abruptly, realization flickering across his features. “Wait. You’re…”

“Kanna Prince,” Kanna said evenly.

“Prince… Prince…” Slughorn muttered, his brow furrowing as he pieced the puzzle together. Suddenly, his face lit up. “Yes, of course! Prince! You’re the girl who took the Potioneers’ exam last month, aren’t you?”

This revelation sparked an audible stir among the students, who now turned their attention fully to Kanna.

“I did take the exam,” Kanna admitted with a small nod, “and the Recovery Potion was my submission. But I don’t know yet if I passed.”

“Let me assure you,” Slughorn said with a broad wink, “there’s no doubt about it. And remember, this must stay our little secret. According to the rules, nothing can be disclosed until the official announcement.”

He turned his gaze on Kyle with mock sternness. “And you! You planned this, didn’t you? You were just waiting to see my reaction!”

“Sorry, Professor,” Kyle replied, trying to sound contrite but failing to suppress a grin. “I thought you already knew. Didn’t you check the list? Kanna’s name was right there.”

Slughorn sighed, shaking his head. “I really should have looked at it,” he muttered, his tone tinged with self-reproach. “I pride myself on knowing all my students, but this time it seems I’ve been caught out.”

Despite his momentary embarrassment, Slughorn’s mood quickly brightened. Learning that a rising star in the world of Potioneers was in his class more than made up for his oversight.

“Well then,” he declared, “a promise is a promise. Hufflepuff gets a hundred points—no, fifty points!” He caught himself, chuckling. “I forgot I’m no longer Head of House. But don’t worry; I’ll have a word with Dumbledore about adjusting it.”

Kanna shook her head lightly, clearly unbothered. In her eyes, fifty points were more than generous. Besides, she knew Kyle’s antics had been harmless.

“You deserve these points,” said Slughorn. “And your potion is also very good. I now add a little to my breakfast every day, and it helps me prepare for each lesson better during the day.”

“Thank you for your comments, Professor.”

Kanna was delighted to receive Slughornʼs approval, especially from someone so renowned as a Master Potioneer.

“Well, today has been full of surprises,” Slughorn remarked, waving his wand and making all the cauldrons on the table vanish. “But now we should get started. Turn to page 22 in your Advanced Potion-Making textbooks.”

At this, the students, their curiosity still piqued, reluctantly pulled out their books.

“Professor, you haven’t told us what’s in here yet,” said a Ravenclaw boy, gesturing toward a small black cauldron on the lectern.

The liquid inside shimmered like molten gold, its surface alive with movements like golden fish darting and leaping, yet not a drop spilled over the edges.

“Oh, so you’ve finally noticed it,” Slughorn said with a pleased smile. “It’s one of the most peculiar little potions, and I’m sure some of you know what it is.”

“It’s Felix Felicis, sir,” Cho said, her tone tinged with excitement.

“Also known as Liquid Luck!” added the student beside her.

“That’s right. Five points to Ravenclaw,” said Slughorn. “I must say, teaching seventh years is easy. It seems Severus’s advanced classes are truly rigorous.”

As expected, Slughorn announced Felix Felicis as the prize for the best performance in the class.

The classroom erupted in astonished murmurs. No one had anticipated the new Potions professor to be so generous—Felix Felicis, just like that?

Slughorn stood at the lectern, observing the excitement spreading through the room. The scene mirrored those of his earlier teaching years. He nodded in satisfaction.

As an experienced teacher, Slughorn understood well the challenges of earning students’ respect. This, he believed, was the perfect solution: one small vial of Felix Felicis, and everything fell into place.

Of course, this wasn’t a sustainable tactic for every year group. Even with his wealth, seven vials of Felix Felicis would be excessive. It was reserved for the advanced sixth and seventh years. For younger students not yet in advanced classes, he had other methods.

“I’ll repeat myself once more,” Slughorn said, raising his voice to quell the buzz of excitement. “The one who performs the best will win this vial of Felix Felicis.”

He tapped the lectern lightly. “Now, where were we... Ah, page 22 in your books. You have just over an hour to brew the first stage of the Polyjuice Potion.”

“Yes, the first stage. You’ll notice this isn’t a quick-fix potion. The extended and increasingly tedious process, along with the growing complexity, distinguishes seventh-year Potions from the more basic first-year concoctions.”

“Bear in mind, the potion’s difficulty escalates because if anything goes wrong at any stage, all your previous efforts will be wasted.”

“Good luck.”

The allure of Liquid Luck was irresistible. At Slughorn’s signal, the students eagerly turned to their textbooks and flipped through the pages with determination.

Slughorn had thoughtfully prepared the necessary ingredients in advance, all neatly arranged in the storage cupboard by the door, including the Lacewing flies that had been boiled for twenty-one days.

The task itself wasn’t particularly difficult—something even a second or third year could accomplish—but it required patience. Slughorn saw no need to drag out the process unnecessarily.

The students got up to gather their ingredients. Unlike in earlier years, when competition for supplies had been more frantic, the atmosphere was calmer; fewer students had taken part in Snape’s advanced classes.

By the time Kyle returned with Fluxweed harvested under the light of the full moon, another student was already processing the Knotgrass.

Each student focused intently on their work, though none could help glancing around, gauging their progress against that of their classmates.

The only one seemingly unaffected by the competitive tension was Kanna, who was riveted to her cauldron, her focus unbroken.

Kyle carefully added three portions of Fluxweed to his cauldron, followed by two bundles of Knotgrass. As the potion turned a pale yellow, he immediately picked up his wand and stirred it three times clockwise.

The liquid shifted to a soft pink hue—an indication of optimal progress.

Satisfied, Kyle set his wand aside and calmly began preparing the leeches on his table.

Meanwhile, Kanna was already a step ahead.

“Kyle,” Kanna asked softly, “what do you think Professor Slughorn’s judging criteria will be for this class? Or after we finish the potion?”

“It’ll probably be based on the finished potion,” Kyle replied after a moment of thought. Judging by the time left, they would only manage to brew the Lacewing fly solution during this lesson, which was just one part of the Polyjuice Potion—hardly enough for a comprehensive evaluation.

After finishing with the leech, Kyle added two spoonfuls of Lacewing flies to his mortar and began grinding them into a fine powder. This was the most time-consuming part of the process; the finer the Lacewing flies were ground, the more stable the potion’s effect would be.

An hour later, the potion in Kyle’s cauldron had turned a tea-brown color. He quickly adjusted the flame to the lowest setting and added four portions of leech along with the ground Lacewing fly powder.

“Bang!”

A sudden, loud explosion echoed through the classroom.

Kyle’s first instinct was that someone had blown up their cauldron—and he was right. A Ravenclaw boy had been distracted, watching others as if sizing up potential competition. This lapse caused him to forget to lower the heat before adding the Lacewing fly powder.

The result was catastrophic. The boiling Fluxweed reacted violently with the powder, creating an eruption reminiscent of flour igniting in a fire.

“Protego!”

Kanna’s voice cut through the chaos, and the splashing potion stopped just inches from Kyle, blocked by her quick shield charm.

“Thanks,” Kyle said, still shaken by how fast everything had happened.

“You’re welcome,” Kanna replied, shaking her head. “I smelled something burning a moment ago and figured someone’s cauldron was about to explode. Good thing I was paying attention.”

Not everyone was as fortunate. The airborne potion splattered across the room like a torrential rain, burning everyone it touched.

Even Professor Slughorn wasn’t spared; Kyle caught sight of two droplets landing squarely on his bald head.

“Reduce the heat before adding the Lacewing fly powder—such a basic mistake!” Slughorn grumbled, rubbing his head. With a flick of his wand, he vanished the mess.

“Five points from Ravenclaw,” he announced.

The Ravenclaw boy looked crestfallen. Missing out on the Felix Felicis was clearly the last thing he wanted.

Slughorn sighed. “All right, since this is your first mistake... The potion won’t be complete for a few days, and I’ll allow you to use this classroom for an extra hour after class. But only one hour.”

“Thank you, Professor!” the boy said eagerly, rushing back to the storage cupboard to gather fresh ingredients.

The Lacewing fly solution required 20 hours of boiling before the next step could be performed, and Slughorn had planned the lesson schedule accordingly to align with the following day’s class. If the Ravenclaw boy worked quickly, he might still catch up with the rest of the class.

Half an hour later, the bell rang to signal the end of the class.

Slughorn strolled leisurely between the desks, inspecting each cauldron. After examining the contents, he tapped his wand on the tables, causing thin, shimmering lines to appear around each cauldron.

This measure was a precaution against sabotage. While it wasn’t usually necessary, the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin had been particularly heated in the past two days. Slughorn had decided it was worth the extra effort to prevent any mishaps that could ruin the students’ hard work.

It was an inconvenience, but far preferable to losing progress on two full lessons’ worth of brewing.